...before there can be change there must be discontent.
Paul BowlesStichwörter: change discontent
You can't discipline the whole country."
"Still," Moss said dreamily, "that's what must be done before they can ever accomplish anything.
Stichwörter: discipline-and-punish
When I first came here it was a pure country. There was music and dancing and magic every day in the streets.
"Now it's finished, everything. Even the religion. In a few more years the whole country will be like all the other Moslem countries, just a huge European slum, full of poverty and hatred.
Stichwörter: colonialism
At least you can say you were in on the last days of Morocco," he told her. "How's your tea? Finished? I think we ought to be going.
Paul BowlesStichwörter: tea-and-empire
I think that's the point of view of an outsider, a tourist who puts picturesqueness above everything else.
Paul BowlesStichwörter: tourists
He still felt coreless - he was no one, and he was standing here in the middle of no country. The place was counterfeit, a waiting room between connections, a transition from one way of being to another, which for the moment was neither way, no way.
Paul BowlesStichwörter: no-country
That was what he wanted, to be baked dry and hard, to feel the vaporous worries evaporating one by one, to know finally that all the damp little doubts and hesitations that covered the floor of his being were curling up and expiring in the great furnace-blast of the sun.
Paul BowlesStichwörter: baked
The people of each country get more like the people of every other country. They have no character, no beauty, no ideals, no culture-nothing, nothing.”…
“Everything’s getting gray, and it’ll be grayer.
Stichwörter: peoples
In reality the gatherings were held in order to entertain these few Moslem guests, to whom the unaccountable behavior of Europeans never ceased to be a fascinating spectacle. Most of the Europeans, of course, thought the Moslem gentlemen were invited to add local color.
Paul BowlesStichwörter: local-color
When I was young” … “Before I was twenty, I mean, I used to think that life was a thing that kept gaining impetus, it would get richer and deeper each year. You kept learning more, getting wiser, having more insight, going further into the truth” – she hesitated.
Port laughed abruptly. – “And now you know it’s not like that. Right? It’s more like smoking a cigarette. The first few puffs it tasted wonderful, and you don’t even think of its ever being used up. Then you begin taking it for granted. Suddenly you realize it’s nearly burned down to the end. And then’s when you’re conscious of the bitter taste.
Stichwörter: life cigarette life-and-death
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